


Food is Love

by GLiTCH_R



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Comfort Food, Depression, I don't know, I'm Bad At Tagging, Is this good fiction?, M/M, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, POV Bucky Barnes, POV Steve Rogers, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Endgame, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Self-Harm, Starvation, how endgame should have ended, supportive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-29 11:14:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19018786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GLiTCH_R/pseuds/GLiTCH_R
Summary: After returning from the dead, Bucky feels like a fake. He stops eating, stops taking care of himself, stops existing. Steve doesn't know what to do until Natasha gives him some help.





	Food is Love

**Author's Note:**

> [This fic was going to be much, much longer, but I'm just not sure what comes next. So, if I think of anything, I'll add it, but for now, this is a standalone little segment fic! Enjoy...? :'P ]

What is a man like Bucky supposed to do  **_now?_ **

It's only a month after the world gets its other 3.5 billion people back. The planet is still coping, probably on the edge of some other crazy change. Bucky doesn't stay in Wakanda more than a week. He doesn't go to D.C. He doesn't even go to Bucharest. You know where he goes? Steve apartment. In Brooklyn. Seemingly, so does Natasha.

The damn purple alien is dead. The raccoon man is safely away from his arm. Steve's grown a beard, shaven it, then grown it again. And so far, for one sweet, uneventful month, nothing else happens. All is quiet, seemingly at peace. The collective experience of half the population being wiped out and then given back just as suddenly as it left has evidently humbled all the little senseless angers. All is quite. Peace on Earth.

So what is Bucky supposed to do  _ now? _

 

* * *

 

 

"What am I supposed to do with him Nat?" Steve asks in a lost tone, as they sit quietly on the rooftop of Steve's apartment building. 

"You remember that list of things people said you missed out on?" Natasha answers smoothly, glancing Steve's way in the moonlight. "Yeah," he sighs. The damn thing is in his pocket right now. For no other reason than it just happened to be in this particular pair of sweats when he put them on. The small notebook is also more than full; television shows and movies, music and 'video-games' dot each and every page that's written on. Not to mention all the numerous bars, bakeries, restaurants and foods he's been recommended. Maybe it would be fun to visit them. Maybe it would help Bucky out of this dark place he's been in ever since he came back.

Nat suspects he's got it by now. "He might not be into it immediately, but I think I know where he's coming from. Just give it some time and a handful of rom-coms, maybe a pizza or two.. or maybe lots of both.." She thinks out loud. When Steve gives her that cocked eyebrow and slim smile, she just smirks and looks at him through lashes. "Hey. Worked for me." She defends without heat or haste. "I know." Steve smiles again, sweetly this time.

"N'so where will you be?" He asks after a moment.

"Oh, you know. Around." Nat replies absently. She looks back to the city skyline and the far off twinkling lights of so many windows. "Fury or anyone else is not exactly eager to put us back to work any time soon."

"You know you're welcome to stay, Romanov," Steven says softly. "You can take the couch, or- or my bed, and  _ I'll  _ take the couch.." It comes out a bit more rushed than he means but the point's there. After a pause, Nat says "I'll take the couch." and Steve can hear the heartfelt smile in her voice.

 

* * *

Bucky wakes up late in the morning. He has been every day he's been back. And yet he still feels tired. Worn down. Achy and Feeble. It's the first time Bucky's  _ felt his age _ in his unnaturally long life. It this is just what being 100 feels like, Buck doesn't want any part of it. But really it's only after he came back that it started. He hates this feeling; feeling like a shadow of himself, like a husk of the person he was before. The only thing keeping him from giving up on it entirely is Steve. And if he's honest, Natasha. But they seem relatively helpless to aid him in this struggle. Which he doesn't blame them for.

Steve usually leaves Buck alone in his room with his door shut, fitting with his over-politeness and accommodating demeanor. This makes it odd that twenty minutes after Buck wakes up, Steve knocks. "Bucky?" He starts apprehensively, already opening the door slightly and peeking his head through. Buck turns with a jump from the closet of the spare bedroom, trying his best to make himself look at least on the brighter side of neutral. From the horrified look that immediately paints Steve's face, he failed, and must look exactly as tired, dirty and lifeless as he feels.

But Steven swallows his shock and continues. "Um.. Me an' Natasha.. Would.. Like it if you would maybe.. Try to come out for lunch?" Steve asks, bent low in the slightly open door with none of his usual "cheer up" confidence.

Bucky's eyes drop a little and he thinks about it. It doesn't seem like it'll make a difference to anything. But he  _ does _ need some food to keep him from starving to death. And if Steve wants him to do it (and Natasha wants him to do it), he supposes he'll just do it. Maybe if he feigns happiness he can fake it till he makes it.

"Uh.. We got your favorite pizza..? Chicken and bacon and garlic?" Steve adds after Bucky doesn't respond.  _ That  _ gets his attention. He feels his stomach twist with all the hunger pains he should have been feeling from not eating for days. Bucky  _ needs _ that pizza. And sure, yes, being with Steve and Nat instead of being alone inside his head all night might help.  _ It'll help a lot, _ Bucky admits to himself. "Okay." He says, trying to smile but he can only bring his lips to curl at the edges. All the same, message received. Steve looks delighted and Buck notices Natasha a ways back in the hall, smiling her classic smile. "Oh-- great!" Steven says with renewed vigor in his voice, straightening up with pink cheeks.

"Just, um... Let me freshen up a little first." Buck asks gently.

"Sure, of course. Take your time, it's alright." Steve quietly assures. "We'll be in the living room when you're ready." He says, with another rosy-cheeked smile, and waves a little before gently closing the door.

Bucky hadn't planned on coming out of his room today. At least not while anyone was around. Perhaps late at night, he would have ghosted into the kitchen and quickly snatched whatever vague food item he could find and then rushed back into the spare room. He may be feeling without purpose, but he damn well isn't going to die in Steven's fucking spare bedroom. What kind of asshole would he be, getting his life saved-- no, pretty much being  _ resurrected _ by Steve, like in all those bible stories he had to read as a kid, just to turn around and starve to death? He  _ couldn't  _ do it. Not to Steve. And not to Natasha, either. So he's gonna go down there and be with them, and hopefully have a good time, but first he's gonna clean himself up.

Bucky takes the quickest shower he can manage, scrubbing all the grease out of his hair and washing out the gaps between the metal in his left arm and cleaning behind his ears and all that. He lets the steamy, soapy water run over him and relieve a little tension from his shoulders. He even brushes and combs his hair through, to make it look like it had been back in Wakanda. He could tell Steve had liked that look. Just as  _ he  _ liked the look of that beard edging Steve's face.  _ What is this hair product? Maybe put some of that in. _ He brushes a dollop of the odd bottle on the counter into his locks, just for good measure.

Buck was already dressed before, but now he puts on a proper  _ clean _ outfit. Digs through the drawers and finds a nice-fitting blue plaid button-up, and some jeans. And socks. No use in shoes around the house, as his mother taught him. He stops hesitantly at the door, his metal hand reaching for the latch. Buck forces out a breath and psyches himself out before stepping through the door.

 

* * *

Delighted is an understatement. Steve is over the moon. He almost couldn't stop himself from skipping down the hall. He already squished Nat in a hug, thanking her so much for her suggestion. She shrugs him off with a chuckle. "Easy big guy. We still gotta find something to watch." Nat slips Steve's pocket book off the table and flips through it. "Let's start with the oldest one." She says, satisfied when she finds  the title of a movie from the late forties. "Closest to your time." She smirks.

When Bucky comes out, he looks apprehensive at best, with his hands shoved in his pockets, almost like he thinks he might not be welcome anymore. But God, he looks  _ better _ , his hair is clean and tidy, if damp, and he's got fresh clothes on, and his beard is even trimmed a little bit. He just looks genuinely better. But still, there are things that have been evident about him since he came back that still show through. There are thick dark rings around his eyes and his cheeks have hollowed markedly. The shirt he's wearing, which would have fit much better in the past, pretty much hangs off him where he's thinned out. Steve might not be able to completely see his ribs, but he's even a stretch thinner than he was on Hydra's liquid diet. What Steve takes from that, is that they're going to have to do this a whole lot more often...

There's a spot right in the middle of the couch, very obviously made for Bucky. So when Steve and Natasha turn and smile at him, he seems to get it and very gently, very carefully lowers into the seat. Steve and Nat have already had their pizza, and the movie is already on. She suggested this to make it seem casual, they don't need to wait for Bucky to come in and eat, and don't wait to start watching the movie either. It'll make it seem more casual, less a thing they're doing simply to get Bucky out of his room and more something they already planned on doing themselves. But just happened to think about Bucky. Less pressure, more natural that way. "We're watching Gentlemen's Agreement." Steve informs him. "Apparently it's kind of a classic."

"..Hm." Is all Steve gets in response. "You're welcome to as much pizza as you like, we're done." He adds, gesturing to the flat box on the table beside an extra plate. "...Thank you." Bucky replies. He cautiously serves himself a piece, and settles in shyly for the film on the television. He flashes a tiny, polite yet apologetic smile at Nat and Steve when they happen to catch eyes.

Bucky eats  _ eight _ pieces of pizza. Without hesitation. Deep dish, extra large. Which both scares and relieves Steve all at the same time. Relieves him because Bucky obviously needed it, and seems in much better condition afterwards. Scares him because he  _ must have _ been starving himself, all alone in that room. They're an hour in when Buck's on his last slice, the only left in the box. He's got a more contented, relaxed look on his face as he eats it, having loosened up significantly during the course of the afternoon (whether or not because of the meal alone, Steve's not sure.)

When Bucky's finished the final piece, he gets up and takes all the dirty dishes and trash. Nat smiles at Steve, with a face saying "See? I knew this would work." Steven grins gratefully back at her. Buck sits back down, satisfied. He doesn't turn to either of them, but as he watches the screen a genuine smile starts to paint his face. "Thank you." He says, and this time, there's a sweeter tone in his voice. Rogers' cheeks turn rosy. "You're welcome, Buck." He replies, happiness bubbling up in his chest. Nat pats Buck softly on the shoulder.

At the end of the movie, Bucky finds himself an excuse to retreat back to his room, after cleaning the dishes and doing some other house chores as repayment for Natasha and Steven's generosity. At least, that's what he said. But he seems to feel guilty to Steve, which is ridiculous and unwarranted, but Buck just wouldn't have it any other way.

"What should we do for dinner?" Steve asks Nat, as they sit back down on the couch to watch a nature documentary she put on. "Easy there, Cap." She replies with a shake of her head. "No more invites tonight, let him rest and reflect. Tomorrow we can try this again. Maybe even do something different." She states wisely. It's disappointing not to be able to lure Buck out again, but Natalia's right. It can't be too much happening all at once. But it's gonna be awfully hard to wait.

 

* * *

 

 

Bucky feels a little less like a bump on a log now. He cleans his room (which, honestly, he should have done two weeks ago, but he just couldn't have been fucked to deal with it). It's kind of a big task, but it helps that he's doing it on a full stomach. Something he hadn't felt before with his new, reconstituted body. He feels a little more complete now, like he's a step closer to really being  _ himself. _ Which is satisfying- on top of the feeling of a full stomach- to say the least.

But Bucky's just not there yet.

After changing the linens, cleaning the clutter and the trash away, and sneaking out to quickly dispense and start his laundry, he lays back down in the fresh clean bed. The television is playing some program quietly in the background. What is he going to do with himself until tomorrow? It was an amazing, much needed experience to do even something so simple as have lunch and watch a movie with other people.  _ Other people _ who are his  _ friends. _ Maybe his best and  _ only  _ friends. Will he get the chance to do something similar tomorrow?  _ 'If not I'll make the chance,' _ Buck decides. He'll get all the cash in his wallet (not much, to be sure), he'll go out that door and he'll ask politely if he can take Steven and Natasha out for food. If need be, he'll go without food to pay for them, which might end up happening. But it would be alright, 'cause the least he could do for this afternoon is return the favor.

Bucky then grumbles into his pillow, because it's only 10:00 p.m. and he can't possibly sleep  _ now. _

 

* * *

__

Steven can't sleep. Or at least, he doesn't want to. He's too excited for tomorrow. Nat and he talked in depth about what they wanted to plan for Bucky. Steve was firm about taking a trip to the boardwalk, maybe getting a burger and a shake, almost like what they used to do in their childhood. Natasha didn't disagree that something like that would help, but she thought that might be taking things a little too fast. Steve insisted, and she shrugged and said "Sure, but you're the emotional punching bag if he can't handle being outside." Which would also be fine. But really, that's definitely not what Steve's going for, so he'll just have to be careful and delicate with Bucky.

Steve can try to catch a few winks, but it wouldn't be the end of the world (again) if he doesn't.

 

* * *

In the morning, Steven beats Bucky to the punch. By, like, five minutes. Buck got all cleaned up again, dressed in his red Henley and blue jeans and everything. He notices that it’s a lot bigger than it used to be, sagging around his waist and billowing in front. Right as Buck considered his work done, a strong but timid knock came from the other side. At noon sharp, no less, very typical of Rogers.  _ Good to know some things don't change. _ Bucky opens the door immediately, which kind of catches the man standing there off guard. "--Uh, Bucky." Steve starts, seemingly re-preparing his introduction. "I.. I thought that you might- well you don't have to- Uh. Would you like to maybe visit the boardwalk with me and Natasha?" He finally spits out. Nat, again, is leaned up against the wall behind him a ways, smirking at Rogers' twisted tongue.

"I just, thought maybe you'd enjoy it. Maybe we'd get a bite to eat?" He glances down at Buck's body and looks a little worried. Buck knows how weird it is that this shirt isn't sticking to his torso the way it used to. Apparently he'd let himself go longer, and worse, than he thought.

"That sounds.. Good," Bucky replies stiffly. He doesn't mean to say it that way, but that's just how the words come out of his mouth. He compensates with a little smile. "When do we leave?"

"Well, we can leave whenever you're ready," Steve replies honestly. Buck nods and then steps out and closes his door behind him. "Let's go now." He states, glancing nervously from Steve to Nat before quickly following up with a "Please." 

"-..Sure!" Steve smiles, looking a little shocked at how eager Buck is as opposed to yesterday. "No problem. Let's go."

Steven drives them over to the boardwalk and spends the time pointing out so many different places that have stayed the same since they were kids, and memories he has here and there, and laments and whines about certain things that don't exist there anymore. Natasha and Bucky listen, and don't do much talking except in response. Buck knows that Steve understands that he's going to be doing most of the talking, and he gets the sense that Steve kind of needed to say all this out loud to someone. Which is why he and Nat let him go on and on. Steve brings up good points, there are so many new buildings and old ones, and some things stayed the same, and some didn't. It feels odd to see, like the area near the beach is made up of a scrapbook or a photo collage, old and new pictures cut out and placed right next to each other.

Finally, they get to a diner. "It's on me. Order whatever you like, don't be sparing!" Steve smiles reassuringly as Natasha's already digging through the menu. Bucky does as he's told. He  _ does _ order whatever he likes. He is  _ not  _ sparing. But he tells his order to Steve, because he'd just rather jump off the boardwalk into the ocean than talk to anyone else.

Bucky orders a burger, fries, hashbrowns, a milkshake,  _ and  _ chicken strips. Natasha only gets a chicken salad, and Steve only gets a sandwich, and Bucky scolds him about that not being nearly enough food for a guy like him and pushes his milkshake and chicken in both Nat's and Steve's direction. Steve simply chuckles, cheeks pink and turns them back towards Bucky. As if Steve's malnutrition is some kind of joke. Nat takes the milkshake, however.

"I'll be fine Bucky, I swear." Steven grins that perfect grin, and Buck will simply have to take him at his word. After all, he  _ has _ somehow survived upwards of seven years without Bucky, so that seems like it might be valid. Still.

Barnes eats like he's never eaten before. The entire meal is gone within a matter of at least thirty minutes. He feels almost like ordering more, but he's sufficiently full and doing so would be.. not smart. "Damn Buck, you were hungry!" Natasha smiles at him, and makes him feel self conscious. Like they  _ aren't  _ hungry, eating their tiny portions, Buck thinks.

Steve looks surprised, and a little troubled. That feeling and look has kind of been buzzing around him in varying levels since yesterday afternoon. After a long while, Steve finally resolves himself and asks the thing that Bucky felt was on his mind. "Are.. Were you... Starving yourself in your room, Buck?"

"..No." Bucky replies, averting his gaze. "I just.. wasn't eating. Much." Which is true. And definitely  _ not  _ starving. Steve looks like just got slapped. "Buck," He whines, his face contorting into a shape that makes Bucky's heart sink.

"I'm sorry, alright? But I wasn't punishing myself, or- or anything like that, I just. Didn't... Feel like eating was important." Bucky wishes he had another burger to shove in his face so he didn't have to look at Steve  _ or _ Natasha right now.

Nat just happens to skip out on the ride home for some reason, so Bucky is forced to sit next to his best friend who ceaselessly makes him feel rightfully guilty for being a complete dumbass. On the drive home Steve's hands are white-knuckled on the steering wheel and Buck can  _ hear _ him thinking of things. When they arrive Steve stops them outside the door. He promises to take Buck out all the time, no matter what. And Bucky can accept that. Hell, he can embrace it like a fresh breath of air, who is he kidding. But then Steve continues.

"You-- ..Honestly Buck, you don't look healthy. I know it's hard for you right now but you can't ignore your own needs. So I'm going to do what you used to do for me, and make sure you get well." The look on his face is determined, as if Buck might try to stop him. "Right now, our life is ours. We're not at war, we're not fighting for our lives. You have the right to be  _ happy now _ , and you have the right to live a healthy, long life like we both shoulda had back in the day." Before Buck realizes it Steve's hands are on his arms, steady and sturdy and strong. "I owe you  _ that _ much, at least."

Buck isn't sure how to respond. In fact he's not sure if there's a response that would convey how unspeakably grateful and undeserving he feels at the current moment.  _ Our life _ is what Steve said.  _ He and Steve's  _ life. The statement brings security and the hope that all the catastrophe is finally behind them.

Bucky thinks about the way Steven's holding him right now. He hadn't really been touched like this since he came back. It's a grounding, heavy grip Steve's got on him, and Bucky had literally assumed that if anyone gripped him this strongly, chunks of him would've broken off and turned to ash in their hand. That he'd be revealed to be hollow, and more pieces of him would wither and fall away until he was gone again, and the whole thing was a wasted effort. He's glad for Steve's sake that this is not the case. It makes Bucky feel a little more..  _ real. _

"I.. Thank you Steve," Buck says softly at first. It's only now that he realizes his eyes are wet.

He returns to his room late at night, after Natasha's come home and the three of them have spent a pleasant evening together. Perhaps it's party because of the full stomach, but Buck doesn't feel as flimsy now. He's not empty on the inside, as paper thin as he felt just a short while ago. He's got his own muscles, his own bones, that stand up to Steve's support in just the same way they used to. And that, for lack of a better term, is reassuring.


End file.
